We All Thrive On Attention - meet&greet

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.


    He hadn't gotten over his little fear of heights within his first day of being here, so he stayed on the ground as much as he could, having not found the trust in those islands that floated quietly in the air. Every time he thought of going up to join the rest of the clan, he shivered as he envisioned himself falling and splattering into a mass of blood and flesh onto the ground. Instead he'd just sort of would stay below, build up some confidence and hopefully make some friends with those who were near him and would visit in the main land here and there.


    "Anyone around to do a meet and greet?" He sat comfortable alone, but would enjoy some company and being able to chat with others. Knowledge was after all power, and the more knowledge he'd gain about those around him, then maybe he could build up the trust to join them up in the sky as well.
    [color=transparent]c gaylien

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Sweetophelia had never harboured a fear of heights. She had grown up in Westeros, born into House Targaryen when the old Valyrian house had still been in power (it was only recently that her son had reclaimed the throne for their family). Their sigil had been that of a three-headed dragon and most of her family had been dragons as well. Even if she had not been born a dragon herself - Sweetophelia had actually taken her father's form instead, the manticore - she was well accustomed to flight and great heights. The sight of the BlizzardClan floating islands had never evoked any concern or anxiety in her, but perhaps that piece of fortune had simply been derived from the luck in the circumstances of her birth.


    Approaching Rorik at his call for a meet-and-greet, the BlizzardClan deputy offered him a quick smile, taking a seat directly across from him. "It's good to see you again, Rorik," she commented, her plume-like tail swaying as she spoke. "I'm Sweetophelia Targaryen - in case you've forgotten." She had remembered his name but she couldn't assume that he would remember hers - joining a new clan was always an overwhelming experience and when you were confronted with so many new and different animals, it was easy to lose track of all of the names. "I hope that you're liking BlizzardClan so far?"

    info — updated 1/6


    Tension left his body as someone familiar joined him, how had she gotten use to these living situations? Had she possibly been born into them or just was a naturally fearless creature? He wanted to sigh in exasperation towards his own thoughts, already growing tired of his own weakness that kept him from joining all of his clan mates are their luxuries in the air. "It's going well I suppose, I still haven't met very many people... and also am finding it difficult to join everyone among the clouds." Just thinking about it invoked an involuntary shiver to rack his lean figure.


    He cast an uneasy gaze towards Sweetophelia, "Excuse me for asking, but has anyone ever just called you Ophelia? Or do you prefer your whole name instead?" Either way he didn't mind, but he felt this would allow room for more conversation between the two and for him to get to know one of his clan mates better. He wanted to trust her, and this seemed like a good way to find that trust.
    [color=transparent]c gaylien

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Sweetophelia had always been a bold character, a trait stemming from her childhood and marked even then by the way she had taken control in games with the other children. But she could not claim to be fearless as there were times when doubt and paranoia overwhelmed her - a heredity trait stemming from her family line. Targaryens had interbred for generations and occasionally recessive defects were passed on; in Sweetophelia's case, paranoia was a possible future for her and difficulty conceiving was already present in her new body even if she was unaware of the fact, seeing as she hadn't tried for any more children since Tsubodai and their twins, Jaehaerys and Lucerys, both of whom were now grown.


    "Would you like for me to walk you up the stairs?" she offered, smiling slightly. She could not help but feel amused by Rorik's apparent fear, still not thinking much of it; it was a phobia that he would eventually have to move past, she was sure of it. "If you make it, I could show you my family's heirloom," she added as a playful incentive. Moving on, the BlizzardClan deputy could not help but arch a figurative eyebrow at his question. "You're more right than you know," Sweetophelia admitted with a faint laugh. "My mother originally named me 'Ophelia'." Clan names were not the tradition in Westeros after all. "As a child 'sweet Ophelia' was an endearment my mother used for me, and when I decided to take on a warrior name it was what I went with." Of course, for a brief time, she had later come to be known as Alysanne but the tall Ragdoll simply wasn't much interested in discussing that portion of her life. "But you can call me whatever you'd like."

    info — updated 1/6

    Wisteria was born among the clouds - both times. Sure, the second time was in a secondary island that nobody ever really checked, but that doesn't change the fact that she never had the reason to fear heights. But, then again, in her past life, she watched people tumble down the sides of cliffs, and die. Surely that created some fear in the she-cat.


    The child happened to be below the islands, purely for the better oxygen. After she had enough of that, she would climb up once again and settle into batting a mossball between her paws. Until then, though. Her ears pricked as she heard some talking not to far off, faintly recognizing one of the voices. Using her best hunting-crouch, the she-cat stalked over to the two, before realizing that this was more of a meet-and-greet than a personal chat.


    She popped out of her hiding and slid over, sitting nearby both of them. She only caught the butt end of what Sweetophelia said, and faintly wondered if her past self had any other names she went by. Whereas she, the living Wist, went by any and every flower name in the book. She would be surprised if she didn't turn when someone called one of them.


    "It's nice to meet you, sir." she had yet to catch his name, so she settled for the formal pronoun. "Why are you guys way down here, anyways?" she didn't catch him admit his fear, either.


    At the mention of going up escaped her feline lips, an uneasy look returned to his gaze, he wished he could hide it, but it was such a strong emotion that was invoked when faced with one of his greatest fears. He had tried earlier to climb the steps that lead to the islands, but the sensation was like no other and made him want to cower down and never walk again so that he may be closer to the earth. This feeling was the reason why he had chose Blizzardclan, he wanted a clan that could make him stronger, what better way to become stronger than to conquer his worst fear?


    He can admit that the sky was beautiful, but to him it's beauty was like that of a snake, it was just as deadly and was probably the cause of so many deaths over the years before him. He glanced at her once again as she mentioned a little treat for going up, and this treat was to see her family's heirloom, he figured it was something special if it belonged to a family and she was offering it up the way she was. Why not go up and see it? Maybe thinking about it would put his mind elsewhere from looking down to the earth from which he was born on. "I think I could do that possibly.." He couldn't give a for sure answer for he didn't want to disappoint the Blizzardclan deputy once they would take a few steps.


    She had addressed his question about other's calling her Ophelia, and he appreciated that she always took time to answer everything that he said. He nodded a little at the nickname her mother would call her, a smile crawling across his maw. "My birth name is Rorik, but my mother and younger brother called be Rory." A thoughtful looked crossed his face, "I think I like Ophelia or Elia a lot.. preferably Ophelia." He frowned a little, "Not to give insult to your name as of present or the nickname your mother gave you of course." He was certainly afraid of messing up his possible budding friendship with her, what good was a life without friends in it?


    A scent joined there's and then there was another Blizzardclanner among them and he blinked a little as he took in the new comer, she addressed him as she sat near Ophelia and he nodded, "Well hey there." It was a stupid little greeting, but he had meant to ask what her name was before she immediately asked both Ophelia and him what they were doing doing here. He briefly glanced up before looking at her with a bit of a shy tone creeping into his features and voice, "I have a little fear of heights." Some would probably question his being in this clan and why he hadn't left by now.


    "What's your name by the way? I'm Rorik."
    [color=transparent]c gaylien

    [center][fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 375px;][font=andale mono][align=justify]Anyone around to do a meet and greet? Surprisingly enough, it seemed quite a few people were, Riddler himself included. He wasn't really sure what he was doing off the main island - just wanted to get away for a bit, he supposed - but he was attracted to Rorik and the others both by the wolf's call and Sweet's familiar voice. When he first spotted them, he stood a short distance away, listening for a moment before partaking in their exchange. Ophelia? Never heard that one before, Ed chimed helpfully. Riddler had never heard anyone call her that before... he had always called her Sweet, as that was how he had known her first - Sweetkit. Did she prefer Ophelia? Or Elia? Why did Rorick want to call her that, anyway?


    Shaking his head as though in an attempt to clear it - these were Ed's ideas, not his, right? - he managed to place a small smile on his face as he made his way over. It had been hard for him since Tama passed, but he was doing his best. "Rorik, you say?" he meowed in an almost musing fashion as he settled himself by Sweetophelia, observing Rorik as he often did to strangers. "I'm Riddlersgame - how'd you develop your phobia? If you don't mind me asking." A fear of heights didn't really make much sense to the tabby, but phobias often developed from traumatic events. Even if it didn't, Rid wanted to hear what he had to say.

    [center][fancypost=bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 500px; text-align: justify;]She heard the talking from down below but the problem was she couldn't find the darn staircase. Her eyes shifted over the landscape as she raced around the edge of the island, looking for a way down because she wanted to see who was talking. Who it was that she didn't know yet. Her rather large paws bumbled along till she managed too find the staircase finally and in her excitement she tried to quickly hop down them. Now that was not such a great idea as she was a bit clumsy being a two month old pup and she miscalcuated her step which sent her rolling and bouncing down the stairs. Now, it was a long way down but she was silent the whole way, squeezing her eyes shut at each impact before she landed with a soft plop in the snow on the ground. It took the boy looking girl a moment to rise stir, paws flailing a bit as she rolled to her paws and shook the snow from her pelt. Her eyes didn't show any pain nor did she seem like she was hurt as she turned around and spotted the group. Bounding over she huffed and held her tail up high before looking over all of them with her vermilion hues. "Hi, I'm Marsella and welcome to Blizzardclan Mister...uhh...uhhh...." She'd heard his name but already the pup had forgotten.

    info | updated 01/05


    His attention shifted to Riddlersgame once his voice reached his ears, a look of curiosity filled his gaze. He couldn't figure out an opinion of Riddlersgame from first glance except for he was obviously a feline he was more comfortable around his peers and in the territory, he seemed sure of himself where as Rorik didn't and that made Rory feel a little self-conscious. He'd never allow for himself to be exposed as such, so he kept that hidden, but he didn't hide his interest in the male. "I never really thought of why I was afraid before... all I've ever known is that I can't look at a cliff edge without imagining myself welcoming death or becoming horribly disfigured from a traumatic fall." He paused, thinking back to his first few months of life, he was born in a den that was located on a cliff's edge. He remembers being the second pup to venture from the den alongside his older sister, looking over the edge in wonder and not fear. There were constant times where he wrestled on the edge with no problem, but he does remember the time his father punished him for puncturing a hole in his sister's ear.


    "I guess it stems from my father's form of punishment, which included hanging me over the edge of a cliff and threatening my death if I ever hurt my sisters again. Could also be from trying to climb a tree and busting my head on the cold hard floor... could be a number of things really." He smiled, he had no sense of keeping his personal information to himself. He wasn't taught to keep his weaknesses to himself, instead he spoke freely and sometimes even recklessly. Something that could possibly get him killed in the future.


    His ears perked and head turned towards the stair steps as he saw a canine figure tumble down the stairs, recover, then make her way towards the small group as if nothing had happen. He chuckled a little as she spoke and forgot his name, "Rorik." He glanced towards the stairs, that should've hurt, but looking back at her he saw no injuries but asked anyways. "Are you okay?"
    [color=transparent]c gaylien

    "Oh, my name's Wisteria!" the kitten slipped in, tail curling with delight as she introduced herself. She turned to see Riddlersgame approaching, and decided not to remark on how odd Rorik's fear was to her. After all, she lived in the clouds her entire life, so being on the ground didn't sit well with her. Maybe that's how the wolf felt, just reversed? She thought about his explanation of his fear and, despite it being frightening, she couldn't help but wonder why he hurt his sisters so often. Was it a series of accidents? Purposeful acts of hatred? Her tail twitched, curious mind taking hold. Thankfully, Marsella took her out of her own train of thought.


    "That seemed like quite the fall." the she-cat commented, hiding a smile. She was concerned for the pup, but amused at how fumble-bumble she was.

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Sweetophelia's smile brightened, pleased by Rorik's slow acceptance. She was confident that he would grow accustomed to the floating islands by the end of the month, if not week. Of course, it was difficult to get over one's personal fears but it would be necessary if the male wanted to live amongst them, seeing as most animals of BlizzardClan made their home on the main island. "Don't worry about offending me," she shrugged his assurances off. "But I think that in turn, I might have to start calling you Rory - just to be fair," the BlizzardClan deputy decided, a glint of playfulness entering her pale lilac eyes.


    She turned as Wisteria, Riddlersgame, and Marsella approached, touching her cheek to her boyfriend's shoulder as he came to sit beside her in a silent form of greeting. Her purple gaze returned to Rorik as he answered Riddlersgame's question, managing to hold back a surprised frown when she heard the details of his past. "Oh? What did you do to your sisters?" She kept her tone casual, her smile unwavering, but internally Sweetophelia was quite concerned. Was it playful fighting gone wrong? Or something more sinister? All of this and she could not help but remember Giovanni's visit to BlizzardClan and his description of a "Phantom".

    info — updated 1/20


    "Rory is perfectly fine." He smiled brightly, hoping he had found a friend in Ophelia. He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him by that nickname, sometimes he preferred it. It made him feel as if he didn't have to grow up to fast and could stay young a little bit longer.


    He could see that his comment about injuring his sisters had been taken the wrong way by a few of them, so it looked like he'd have to explain a bit more. "Well, having been one of two boys in a litter of seven, my sister's would often want to play fight like me and my brother did. Sometimes I'd accidentally bite their ear to roughly or accidentally step on them where they hated it most. They always went to my father to complain and I'd end up facing the punishments for it." It was no secret that his parents played favorites, it was even more evident that they did when they ended up kicking him out of the pack.
    [color=transparent]c gaylien

    [center][fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 375px;][font=andale mono][align=justify]Feeling more at ease at Sweet's affectionate greeteing - even with Ed chiming in about that 'Rory' thing -, Riddler listened to Rorik's story with one feline eyebrow raised. His father used to hang him off a cliff? That made the tabby feel a bit better about becoming a father himself - there was no way he'd be that bad. "Well, that certainly explains things. Though, I assure you, that won't be happening here," he replied in what he hoped was a good-natured manner. The wolf sure was open about himself and his past, especially so to Riddler, who was rather reserved when it came to talking about his history. He sat quietly as the newer member described his family, who didn't sound like the best group of people. Rid had never met his parents himself though, but they couldn't be much better than Rorik's since they just abandoned him.